


If I Were You

by tangledalice



Category: Riddick (2013), The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Gen, Kink, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3289886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangledalice/pseuds/tangledalice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johns' anger is turning him ugly inside.  Dahl is not above insubordination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Were You

**Author's Note:**

> Not finished. Not Beta'd (if you're interested PM me).
> 
> It's writing itself, I'm just editing.

“Look at me.”

On his knees, wrists and ankles shackled behind a floor to ceiling pole, Riddick slowly lifted his head, opening his eyes. A metal bit, straps threaded through the back of wide collar, pulled tight against the corners of his mouth. 

Johns crouched in front of him. “I don’t need you to tell me what happened to my son. Your little stunt with the blade painted that picture clear enough.” He examined the man before him with a look of disgust. “How many good men have died to catch your worthless ass?” Riddick’s eyes revealed nothing as Johns’ traced a line along his collarbone, moving down the center of his chest before pressing his fist into the wound below his ribs with a twist. Keeping the pressure steady he watched Riddick’s impassive expression as his body shuddered against his hand, feeling the tremors as reflexes attempted to fight against restraints.

“You’re worth more dead.” He turned slightly, looking over his shoulder to Luna and Dahl. “Either of you care what happens to this lowlife?” 

Dahl shrugged. "You're gonna play with him we can leave you two alone."

“How about I just let him go? From what I recall you’re first in line.”

She sneered. “So you're jealous?”

Ignoring her he turned back to Riddick. "You have any new predictions? Gonna gut me and go at it with Dahl? Maybe add Luna to the mix?" He released a knot in the straps. When Riddick made no move to push the bit from his mouth Johns reached forward again and took it out. Riddick continued to stare. “Nothing?”

“Fuck you.”

He shoved the bit back into place.

“Mr. Johns?” Luna's voice was barely a whisper. 

Johns cinched the straps tight before threading them through the chain connecting the collar to the pole. Pulling them taunt increased slack to the collar, forcing Riddick’s head up as the forward pressure of his position was taken completely by the bit.

“Boss.” Dahl's tone carried an undercurrent of warning. 

Johns shot an annoyed glance over his shoulder and turned back to Riddick. Forced forward by cuffs clipped to the floor and unable to straighten due to the pole, muscles in his arms, back and neck tensed to relieve some of the bit's pressure. Johns raised an arm to backhand the man at his feet.

“That’s enough.”

His hand fell to his side as he turned. Dahl hadn’t moved, still leaning against the wall in the positioning she had taken from the moment he and Luna had dragged the unconscious Riddick out of the rescue harness and proceeded to secure him to the pole. Luna, in marked contrast to Dahl’s relaxed stance, looked pale and slightly sick.

Johns glared at both of them. “You will not speak to, or interact with him without my permission. Is that understood.”

Dahl kicked herself off the wall and walked out of room. Luna glanced from him to Riddick and back nodding weakly. Johns motioned him out the door, hitting the control for full light as he did. “And the lights stay on.” 

\------------

Dahl was already seated in the copilot chair examining her screens. “Luna go through the bunks and pack up everyone’s personal effects. We’ll send them to the families when we hit civilization.”

“How will I…”

“Boss and I have cabins. Just pack up the bunks.” 

“Yes, mam...Dahl.” He stood in the hatch for a second before Dahl looked up, eyebrow raised. Nodding quickly he slipped out of the room.

Dahl went back to her work, ignoring Johns as he dropped into the pilot seat. After a minute he turned to her.

“Just remember who is in command, this is my ship.”

She nodded. “It is your ship.”

“Dammit Dahl. That...that animal killed everyone on that planet but the three of us. He almost got me, I don't want to imagine what he would have done to you and Luna." She ignored his outburst, examining alternate flight paths. He looked away, studying the far wall. "He killed my son." Blinking back tears he swallowed hard. He continued to stare at the wall as Dahl stood and came around the chair, leaning against the console. He rubbed a hand across his face, breath hitching as he forced down a sob. 

"Boss. This isn't you. The man I saw in there." She jerked her head toward the back of the ship. "Wasn't you." She leaned back. "You caught William’s killer. We’ve caught lots of killers, that murdered lots of people.” She shrugged. “So, we pulled him off that rock for the bounty...I'd of preferred to be in on the plan...but he's just another payday.” She stopped, examining his face as she whispered. “I have never seen you treat a prisoner like that." 

"He killed our team."

"That planet, and those damn monsters, killed them. You saw what he's capable of, he could have grabbed Santana’s ship before we even picked up the call."

Dahl waited as he stared at his hands. "He never admitted to killing Billy." 

She leaned back. "What did he say?" 

"Nothing. That idiot Falco attacked before he answered."

"That when he pull the blade?"

Johns glanced at her before returning to stare at his hands. "No. He stopped Falco from shooting me." Intent on his hands Johns missed the disbelief flash across Dahl's face.

"So...by your own account...the man you chained, gagged, and seem more than ready to torture...saved your life?"

"You don't understand."

She stood, arms crossed. "You're right." 

"He killed my son."

"According to you he saved your life before he answered." She walked away and he twisted the seat to follow. 

"You don't know what he is."

She stopped and he closed his eyes against her tensed back. "I thought I knew you." She started to the hatch and turned, one hand braced against the wall. "You have an hour. You either fix this or I will." 

\---

Heading to the bunks Dahl stopped at the door to Riddick cell, her hand hovering over the pad before punching the code. The door slid open to a glaring bright room. She tapped the controls until the harsh light melted to barely glowing wall panels. Despite the dimmed light, he kept his eyes closed. Crossing the space she sighed as she leaned over him, catching the slight wince as she entered his space. Frowning she unclipped the chain of the collar from the pole, and loosened the knots for the bit. Brow furrowed she watched as the muscles in his neck relaxed only slightly, his shoulders and arms staying tensed as he held himself upright instead of shifting into the slightly more comfortable position his restraints would now allow.

Letting the loose end of the chain hang from the collar she stepped back and crouched to his level. Reaching forward her hand froze as her assessing scan met his odd eyes. She held his gaze for a few seconds as her hands found and loosened the last of the tighten straps and resettled the bit to a less painful position before gently retightening them. He continued to examine her, giving no indication he was disappointed at being kept gagged.

Dropping to her knees, Dahl took a breath as she lowered her hands to his waist, watching as his eyes hardened. Shaking her head she carefully found the hem of his shirt. Slowly peeling it up she found the damage his tensed body had been protecting. Leaning closer she examined the roughly cauterised wound, placing a hand on the hot skin and pressing gently. He hissed in pain as she continued to move her hand around the wound, feeling for the swelling that would indicate damage beyond the obvious.

After a minute she straighten, his eyes flashed as she moved, watching her warily. "Are any of your other wounds that bad?" He stared. She shrugged. "I'll keep looking." He shook his head. "Ok.” Standing she ignored the look of incredulity and left the room. 

Making her way aft she glanced in the bunk room as she passed, stopped and stepped in. Luna knelt at the side of a bed, hands pressed together below his chin.

“Luna.”

He jumped. “Sorry.”

“What are you doing? Moss was an atheist.”

Luna moved to sit on the bed. “I wasn’t praying for him.” He looked around shrugging. “I didn’t know who’s bed was who’s, I just said a prayer when I came in the room.”

“Then what were you doing.”

“I was praying for Riddick.”

“If I were you I’d start praying for Johns.” She nudged a pile of clothes with her boot. “Why aren’t you packing?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I found some...stuff. You didn’t want to send everything to the families did you?” She laughed at his blush.

“Anything good? Their tastes were awful, but I get dibs.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Just use your best judgement.” She turned to leave, then stopped. “And Luna.”

“Yes mam...Dahl?”

“No more praying until it’s done.”

\----

Johns opened one eye and glanced at the console. Fifteen minutes left before Dahl’s deadline. Hoisting himself to his feet he left the cockpit, passed the cell and keyed open the door to his cabin. Unbuckling his armor his lifted it over his head, dropping it on the bed before reaching into the back of the closet. After a few seconds he pulled a wrapped package free. Unraveling the cloth, a fighting knife fell into his palm, he gripped it by the hilt, watching light play on the blade as the cloth slipped to the floor.

\----

Dahl worked her way through the hold, filling a mostly empty medical bag with bits of equipment. Five minutes later she snapped the bag shut, grabbing a full charged taser and sliding it into a holster at the small of her back as she left the room.

Passing by the bunk room on her way back she saw Luna crossed-legged on the floor, stacks of her deceased colleagues’ indecent material fanned around him. Shaking her head she rounded the corner to find Johns leaning against the wall outside the locked cell, a small knife gripped tightly in one hand.

“You changed the code.” His voice was flat.

“Yes. He needs medical attention.” She watched him carefully. “Did you know about the wound in his side when you put him in that position?” Johns’ face was a mask.

“Yes.”

Dahl nodded, her voice light. “I’m surprised I didn’t notice when we picked him up.” She keyed the new code. Johns made no mention of the dimmed lights, just stepped past her into the room. Dahl followed, slipping the taser from its holster as she let the bag drop inside the door.

Riddick watched, expressionless as she stepped close to Johns and pressed the taser in the hollow of his collar. Depressing the trigger briefly, she caught him as he collapsed, the dropped knife skittering across the floor, finishing in a slow revolution directly in front of Riddick.

Lowering Johns the last few feet, she quickly laid him on his side, pulling his arms behind him and cuffing his wrists. Searching him, she pulled various weapons and devices from holsters and pockets, placing them in her own. When she got to Riddick’s goggles she shoved them down her shirt, shooting him a quick glance. “You can have them in a minute.”

A thorough pat down revealed another knife, and a picana which she kept out of Riddick’s line of sight while burying in her own pocket. Nodding at the pile of equipment, she stripped off her own vest and holsters and kicked them, and the bigger items from Johns into the hall. Letting the door close she pulled the goggles from her bra and crossed to Riddick, slipping them over his head and gently positioning the lenses over his eyes. “Don’t get too comfortable, you’re next.” 

Lights blazing, she was finishing the cut that would free a piece of paneling from the wall when Johns groaned. Prying the cut section free she slid it in the direction of the door. Digging through the medical bag, she pulled out a length of chain and a small welding torch, threading the chain end through the center of the wall’s now uncovered support strut she welded it closed. 

Reaching back into the bag she produced a collar, and with a quick glance to size up the room, cut the chain at a suitable length. Dragging Johns as close to the end as she could, she placed the collar around his neck, letting the lock click shut she pulled the chain through a ring before taking the torch to the loose end.

“Ow.” He tried to pull away so she straddled his chest.

“I know, it’s hot, I’m sorry.”

“Dahl?”

“Almost finished. There.” She climbed off him and throwing everything back into the bag, kicked it to Riddick’s side of the room. Bending she helped the now struggling Johns into a seated position, briefly checking his eyes and pulse she nodded.

“Dahl? What the hell…” 

Ignoring his still slightly garbled confusion she crossed to Riddick, placing a hand on the band of the goggles. “Your turn. Eyes closed.” Sliding the goggles off, she slipped them over her own head, letting them hang around her neck.

Sitting on her crossed ankles she pulled a set of mag-cuffs out of the bag, using the torch to sever the center link. Unspooling an arm’s span worth of chain she carefully connected the ends to the link on each cuff. Cutting another six feet of chain from the spool she picked a waist height anchor point on the wall behind Riddick and threaded a few inches of the end through before melting it to itself. Finding the other end she held it and the torch in one hand while she followed the chain hanging off Riddick’s collar in the other. The possibly eight inch length was too short to reach a surface she could work on. She stopped. 

Johns snorted. “Thinking on your feet harder than it looks?”

“Quiet.”

Johns gave another snort, but didn’t respond. Placing the torch and chain on the floor she flipped open the bag, examining the contents. Riddick tipped his head in her direction, keeping his expression blank as she rifled through bits of hardware. Finding a sterile, paper packaged syringe at the bottom of the bag, a holdover original contents, she smiled. Overlapping a few links from both chains on the needle she managed a quick connection before the needle melted, soldering the pieces together. Drawing strings of melted plastic off the chain she tossed the torch in the bag. Reaching behind Riddick she opened the clip holding his restrains to the floor. Digging a key from a pocket she unlocked his ankles, leaving his wrist cuffed. “Stand up.”

Riddick cocked his head, but made no move to stand.

She smirked. “I’ve been in this business a long time, hands stay cuffed. You can figure out how stand now, or I’ll clip them back down and give you some time to work it out.”

After a few seconds deliberation he stood. Dahl’s eyes widen at the all-too-fluid motion, as Riddick, eyes still closed, pressed into the pole, stretching. 

Still kneeling, Dahl watched until apparently done, Riddick stilled, head again tipped in her general direction. 

Shooting a glance at Johns, she stood, picking a tube of gel and roll of bandages from the bag. Carefully lifting Riddick’s shirt she began to gently apply the gel to his wound side.

From behind her Johns almost growled. “I’d leave you two alone, but…” a rattle of chains finished his sentence.

“Boss, there’s another gag in that bag if you don’t shut the hell up.” She waited a beat, but when no comment followed she continued her ministrations. After covering the area in gel she wound the bandage around his torso, tight enough to offer some support to his damaged muscles and ribs. Lowering the shirt, she dropped the tube of gel into the bag, bending she picked the bits of chain, torch and the knife Johns had dropped off the floor. She gave Johns a pointed look. Jaw tight he held her gaze, sighing she dropping the knife into the bag and kicked it to the door. 

Picking up the recently customized cuffs, she moved behind Riddick.

“What are you doing?”

Looking up she met Johns’ eye. “Restraining the prisoner for distance transport.”

Johns’ face had lost it’s anger. “You saw what he was able to do with one leg free.”

She stepped back, fingering the key as she examined the still bound Riddick. Eyes closed, he stood easily, giving no indication he heard Johns’ warning. Looking from him to Johns and back she stepped forward. “Knees.”

After a few seconds Riddick dropped to his knees, teeth bared around the bit. Hooking the chain from the collar through the floor clip she pulled it taut before letting it click closed. 

“Umm...Dahl?” She looked up to find Luna standing in the center of the mess of gear she had thrown into the hall.

Johns leaned forward, trying to see through the doorway. “Luna, find a weapon, the crazy bitch attacked me.” He pulled his legs under him and got to his knees. “Go to my cabin and activate the distress beacon.” 

Dahl rolled her eyes as she crossed to the door, pulling Luna in by the collar. Johns sat back on his heels. “God damn it Luna.”

Luna’s eyes went wide as he saw Johns. Dahl watched him with arms crossed. 

“Umm...Dahl…”

“What?”

He glanced back at Johns, then, dragging his gaze away he focused on her. “The comm was going off.”

“Ignore it, the system will handle it.”

“Yeah, I know, I did.” He stopped.

She closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead with a thumb. “Luna, I am not in the mood. Spit it out or you’ll be joining Boss and Riddick.”

**Author's Note:**

> Riddick should actually be a bit less restricted by now, but the story keeps conspiring against him. I'm assuming Dahl will let them both go eventually, but if you'd asked when I started I wouldn't have guessed Johns would be in the mess he's in now, so I wouldn't go by predictions.


End file.
